Hatstall
by KWrite
Summary: A true hatstall is a rare occurrence when it comes to Sorting first years at Hogwarts. Peter Pettigrew was, this is the story of his sorting.


"Pettigrew, Peter."

Peter's throat felt positively dry by the time the stern looking witch called his name, starkly contrasting his sweaty palms. Licking his lips nervously, the young brown-haired boy shuffled toward the stool where Professor McGonagall was waiting with the Sorting Hat. "There's nothing to be nervous about," the witch assured him with a smile, but her assurances did nothing to help Peter's stomach feel at ease as the hat was lowered onto his head. And just like that, the world went dark as the hat slipped over his eyes.

"Well, you certainly aren't going to be as easy to sort as that last girl, are you?" the hat asked, causing Peter to stiffen in surprise. He had heard the hat speak when it called out the houses for the other students, but he had not expected it to speak in his head. "She was clearly a Ravenclaw, but youwon't be joining her there. I'm not sure where to put you yet, but it most certainly won't be Ravenclaw."

 _I'm not stupid!_ Peter still felt nauseous, but the Sorting Hat's quick dismissal of his mother's old house stung. He knew he wasn't anywhere near as smart as his mother; he was awful at his maths and listening to his parents try to explain even a simple theory about Charms made his head hurt. Of course, that could have something to do with how much he hated practicing and preferred thinking of ways to sneak some of his mother's baking rather than listen to why some objects could be summoned and others could not. But, Peter did think that he understood the basic concepts of Astronomy that his mother had taught him fairly well and he managed to help her with the occasional potion too.

"Never said you were stupid." Peter could have swore the hat sounded amused as it said that. "It's not a matter of how smart you are, anyway. Despite what you students seem to think, I don't just toss the smart kids into Ravenclaw, the purebloods into Slytherin, the brave ones into Gryffindor, and give the rest to Hufflepuff. I'll have you know that it's a lot more work than that."

The hat stopped talking then and Peter wasn't certain if it was thinking or waiting for Peter to respond. As the seconds ticked by and it remained silent, he hesitantly thought, _Oh, sorry. I didn't know._

"No worries. None of you first years have any clue, which is why I do the sorting, rather than just letting you pick your own house. I'll have you know though, that not everyone sorted into Ravenclaw is smart. Most of them are quite average when it comes to intelligence, and a few of them, dare I say it, are rather dim."

 _But…but everyone knows that Ravenclaw is the house for smart people who like school and learning. You said so in your song!_ Peter could hardly believe that he was arguing with a hat, but he had all but forgot about his nerves at the Sorting Hat's absurd statement.

"No, I said that those in Ravenclaw value knowledge and learning. That's quite different from being smart. You could be the smartest person in Scotland, but if you don't want to do anything with that knowledge and don't like learning, you wouldn't get sorted into Ravenclaw. However, even if a person wasn't particularly smart, but had a thirst for knowledge and a desire to learnthere's a good chance I would put him or her into Ravenclaw."

 _Oh._

"Yes, oh, and I have a lot more I could say on the subject, but that's not why I'm here. What matters now is getting you sorted, and you don't belong in Ravenclaw, so discussing what does and doesn't get a person into Rowena's house isn't doing either of us any good right now." There was a brief pause, before the Sorting Hat spoke again, without prompting, "You're not a good fit for Hufflepuff, which leaves us with Gryffindor and Slytherin."

 _My Dad was a Slytherin_ ¸ Peter offered hesitantly, not sure if that tidbit of information would make a difference.

"Yes, yes. And his father was in Gryffindor, but I'm not sorting them, I'm sorting _you_. Now be quiet and let me think…"

As the Sorting Hat drifted off into silence again, Peter imagined that he could feel it shuffling through his mind and his memories. Could it really read his mind and know everything about him? The moment that thought crossed his mind, Peter felt his nerves return. It was fine when he was talking to the hat and it just responded to what he was thinking at that moment, but he wasn't certain he like the idea of anyone reading his mind. What would the hat think when he saw little Annie? Or how his dad screamed and shouted and threw things when he realized she was a Squib? How he vanished for a week and when he came back he cried and cried and said he was sorry more times than Peter could count?

Nervous again, Peter waited anxiously for the Hat to comment on his family, but it seemed he worried for nothing, because when the Sorting Hat spoke again, it didn't ask about anything it might have seen. "You really are a hard one to sort. Haven't had this much challenge for quite some time."

 _Sorry? I'd be happy in any house, I think._

Ignoring Peter's comment, the Sorting Hat continued, "You want to do well in life, but would be happy riding to fame on the coattails of another person, without doing much work yourself. A very Slytherin trait. You're also quite observant and known more about people than they likely expect. You would use what you see and learn for your own advantage if it suits your purpose. And yet, you have the capacity to be quite brave. To pick a course and hold to it, despite the fear and the hardships. Gryffindor would help you nurture that skill."

"You would be comfortable in Slytherin," the hat continued slowly, "you could be content without ever needing to be pushed outside of your comfort zone. Gryffindor, though, Gryffindor would challenge you. You have the makings of a true Gryffindor but becoming one will take work. It will not an easy path."

"I'm fine not being challenged too much," Peter admitted. He wanted to learn magic, but he really hated being pushed out of his comfort zone. There was too high a likelihood of doing something stupid and embarrassing.

"I know," the hat said calmly. "That's why it had better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

As the hat finally shouted, Peter grinned wildly as Professor McGonagall pulled the hat of his head. He did it. He had been sorted and was now an official student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It didn't even matter that the hat clearly gave him the harder of the two paths, all that matter was that he had been sorted. Hurrying over to the Gryffindor table, Peter slid into an empty seat his cheeks flushing red as he realized that his new housemates were clapping for him.

He barely had time to get settled before the Hat called out Gryffindor again, sending a bespectacled, dark haired over to Peter's new table. The new boy had sat several seats down and Peter had been too busy feeling excited and relieved to have caught his name. Certain that he would find out his classmate's name soon enough, Peter turned his attention back to the sorting to watch as a girl took a place on the stool.

"You must've been a hard one to sort."

"Huh?" Was the most eloquent thing Peter managed to say as he looked at the older, dark-haired boy he was sitting beside.

"You were up there for a long time. Over five minutes, I think," the boy explained with a wave of his hand. "This is my third year and I've never seen someone take so long to be sorted."

"Well, the hat had a lot of interesting things to say," Peter replied defensively.

The boy didn't seem to notice Peter's tone, or else was happy ignoring it, as he asked, "Does it? I hardly had time to get over the fact that there was a talking hat on my head before it sorted me into Gryffindor. My name's Frank, by the way."

"I'm Peter," Peter smiled as he introduced himself. "And it does," he said excitedly, delighted to know something that a third year did not. "It was telling me stuff like not all Ravenclaws are smart and some of them are actually pretty dumb."

Bursting into laughter, Frank ignored the glares he got from some of his housemates who were trying to pay attention to the remainder of the Sorting ceremony. "I can't wait to tell Roger that. He's one of my best friends and he's in Ravenclaw," he explained without waiting to be asked. "His reaction will be hilarious. Is that why you took so long? The Sorting Hat couldn't figure out if you should be put in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?"

"Gryffindor or Slytherin," Peter corrected.

"Yuck!" Frank made a face at Peter's answer to his question. "Good thing you got into Gryffindor. Most of the Slytherins are gits, just last year-"

But what the Slytherins did last year went unsaid as the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and yet another boy hurried over to join his new housemates.

As McGonagall called the next student up, one 'Shafiq, Emily' Frank sighed. "I guess I should probably stop talking now, and watch Emily get sorted. She's a cousin and my Mum told me I had to keep an eye on her. Once the feast starts you should introduce yourself to the other first years, Gryffindor got a bunch this year and it's always good to have friends in your year."

"Alright," Peter responded, as he glanced toward where some of the other first years were sitting. There really did seem to be quite a few and filled with elation at the fact that he really was at Hogwarts, Peter felt certain that he could become good friends with some of them.


End file.
